Go Fish
by lt-alenko
Summary: Shepard and Joker play a... friendly game of cards.


"You don't know how to play poker?"

He stared at her, dumbfounded and sporting one eyebrow halfway up his forehead. She shrugged, cheeks flushing. "I never learned," she defended. He shook his head, clucking his tongue as he shuffled the deck of cards in his hands. The green table in front of him supported his elbows as he looked over the red cards moving from hand to hand to meet her gaze again.

"Well, what are we gonna do now, Commander? You promised…" he sighed, pouting. He knew how it rubbed her the wrong way. Right on cue, she rolled her eyes.

"We could just skip the games," she purred out an offer, her eyes raking over her chest. She chewed her bottom lip.

"No way, it's my pick tonight," he put the cards down and crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. He wasn't going to budge.

"Fine. What do you suggest, then?" she mimicked his posture. A long silence passed between them as he thought over his decision.

"Go fish," he said simply.

She laughed. "Go fish? Strip go fish. Are you serious?"

"I know they call me Joker, babe, but I've never been more serious in my whole life," he smirked, starting to deal out the cards. He placed the extras in the middle and spoke again. "So instead of taking another card if you guess wrong, you have to take off an article of clothing," he explained. A wicked gleam flashed over his eyes. "And the other gets to pick which one gets taken off."

"Oh, come on," she groaned, her laughter ringing through the room. "You know what? Fine. EDI, lock the doors. No interruptions."

"Noted, Commander," EDI responded curtly. Jeff smirked.

Shepard stood and crossed the room and picked up a bottle of booze and two glasses from the bar. She put them in the middle of the table next to the spare cards, and Jeff wasted little time, pouring them each a cup. She grabbed her drink and took a long sip- she was going to need it.

"I'll go first," Jeff said, as she took her seat across from him once again. He took a sip of his drink. "Ah, got any sevens?"

"Mhm," she sighed, handing her card over.

"How about fives?"

"Go fish," she smirked. "I want the hat."

"What? No way," he laughed. She rose to her feet and took it swiftly from his head. Before he could protest, she put it on. It flopped adorably over her eyes, too big for her.

"That's cheating. You've got an extra article now," he said.

"Pretend it's not there," she smirked. "I won't count it."

He opened his mouth to complain more, but she cut him off. "Got any eights?"

/ / /

She'd successfully gotten him out of his boots and socks, and that was about it. He, on the other hand, had her sitting in just her shirt and her bra and panties across from him. And his hat. Clearly he'd had more practice with Go Fish than she had, but she didn't mind. She was trying to distract him with a little lip biting or hip wiggling, but he wouldn't be swayed.

"Got any twos?" he asked. She threw her fist into the air.

"Nope! Give me your shirt!" she cried, then burst into laughter after she considering what she'd just said. He obliged respectfully, standing and removing his shirt, leaning on the chair next to him for support. He tossed them to her and she waved them in victory. She took another sip of her drink, finishing off another glass. How many had she had?

Her eyes traced lustfully over the lines of his chest. Lean but strong, sculpted but not overly so. Just enough. The smallest trail of hair led down his front to the waist of his pants. She chewed her lip, and it wasn't just a distraction tactic this time. She could barely focus on her cards, and she couldn't tell if it was the drinks, or him, or some combination of the two.

"Distracted, Commander?" he said, slurring a tiny bit.

"Nope," she smiled slyly, the "p" making a popping sound that echoed in the room. "Got any fours?"

"Shirt. Now," he commanded.

"I don't like your tone, soldier," she growled, her lip curling. He shifted in his seat, slightly taken off guard by her sudden change in attitude. She tried not to laugh as she stood, poised and leaning over the edge of the table as she pulled away her uniform top. It fluttered down onto the table and she started at him there, standing over him. She left her cards face down at her spot, and finished off her drink. "Who gives the orders here?"

"That depends," he tried to say, his voice thick in his throat.

"Does it?" she cocked a brow, and before he had the chance to reply, she was up on the table on her hands and knees. She crawled across to him, taking the cards from his hands. He didn't fight her.

"Mmm, we weren't done," he murmured. She pulled him into a kiss. He opened his mouth to hers and her tongue glided easily over his. He moaned softly, his hand reaching up and taking her waist, pulling her towards him.

"I forfeit," she purred. Her tongue traced over his bottom lip.

He stood up and met her at the edge of the table, pulling her legs to dangle over in front of him. He held her hips to his and cradled her face with the other hand, starting to be more daring. Rough. He caught her bottom lip between her teeth and she groaned, tangling her hands in his hair. He tried to do the same, but she still had his hat on.

His hand moved from her face down to the table, taking in every curve of her chest and her abdomen as he moved down. He gently spread her thighs, placing tender kisses down her face and then across to her neck. His teeth scraped her sensitive skin and she cried out, her pulse quickening. Her fingernails scratched new scars into his back. He smiled as he moved down her chest, kissing the edge where the lace of her bra met her cleavage. His other hand unclasped her bra with an expert hand. She nearly gasped at the suddenness of it all. He chuckled.

She played with the waist of his pants, unbuttoning them first, and then taking the zipper painfully slow down the middle of his pelvis. He groaned against her skin, the speed that she was taking obviously killing him. She smirked. She knew damn well that he was in the palm of her hand.

He grabbed her up roughly and pinned her down to the poker table in one fluid motion. He moved over her and kissed down the milky skin of her abdomen, stopping at her navel first, then at the waistband of her panties.

"Got any aces?" he rasped over the valley of her hips.

"Only my pilot," she replied, a lusty smile on her face.

"Guess I'll have to go fish," he said, pulling the elastic down.


End file.
